Vulnerable
by AmethystWren
Summary: A series of inter-connected one-shots revolving around the final moments of the Careers during the 74th Hunger Games. Starting with Glimmer, and ending with Cato, we gain an insight into their thoughts, feelings, hopes and fears. Were they really so cruel? Were they really so blood-thirsty? Maybe, just maybe, they were a lot more vulnerable than they previously thought...
1. Glimmer

**The plan here is to do a series of inter-connected one-shots (each chapter being a story in itself) for each of the Careers in the 74th Hunger Games, detailing their final moments, thoughts and feelings. Starting with Glimmer.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, or any characters, situations and ideas you recognise from it. Credits to Suzanne Collins :)**

* * *

"Glimmer," Someone shakes her shoulder. "Glimmer, wake up."

Her eyes fly open and she sits up, something hard colliding with her forehead mere seconds later. One hand flies up to rub the pain away as her eyes scan the darkness for the imbecile foolish enough to awaken her.

"Marvel," She breathes a sigh of relief, grateful that it's someone she can trust. "What is it?" Glancing to her right, she spots the rise and fall of four sleeping forms; Clove, Peeta, Cato and Lene.

When she turns back to face him, Marvel's hand is rubbing his forehead. "Glim-glam, _honestly_?" He grumbles. "Why'd you have to have such a thick head?"

"Hey!" She removes her hand from her own forehead in order to playfully swat his shoulder. "_You_ can hardly talk!"

Marvel's hand falls away from his head as he looks suddenly to his left. Slowly, he raises a finger to his lips. "Shhh…"

Glimmer quietens, her ears straining as they struggle to catch a noise beyond the shifting of her fellow Careers as they toss and turn in their sleep.

"Do you hear that?" Marvel asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hear what?" His beautiful District partner whispers back, still confused as to what she's supposed to be listening for. An attack? Surely Cato would be more assistance in that situation, right?

"The silence." Marvel whispers back, his expression so serious that, for a moment, Glimmer actually suspects that he's being sensible. However, she quickly casts that idea away when his face breaks into that grin of his. Shoving him away from her, she slithers out of her sleeping bag.

He holds out a hand for her, which she takes, and allows him to pull her to her feet. They stand awkwardly for a moment, hand in hand.

"It's your turn to keep watch." Marvel whispers, glancing at the still-sleeping forms of the rest of the pack.

Glimmer looks down at their still linked hands and back up at him again, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. Giving her fingers one last, quick squeeze, Marvel releases his grip and heads towards the now vacant sleeping bag, snuggling into it and closing his eyes.

She just stands there for a moment, unsure of where to go or what to do. A few minutes must've passed when Marvel's arm shoots up, towards the sky, though the rest of him remains lying down. His index finger points at Glimmer, then over at the tree their base is set up beside, before he lowers his arm back into his sleeping bag.

Smiling to herself, she tiptoes around the other Careers and sits with her back against the tree trunk. Reaching out a hand, she wraps her fingers round the silvery bow she managed to salvage from the Cornucopia and drags it towards her. Settling it beside her, she lunges for the quiver containing the arrows, pulls that towards her, too. If she's to keep watch, she'll need to be armed.

* * *

Keeping watch, it turns out, is a rather monotonous task. Glimmer finds a part of her is actually _willing_ her District partner to wake up, just so that there's someone to have a whispered conversation with, someone to turn the world around them into a song and a game; a _real_, fun game, not this. This… It's much colder than she'd expected it to be. And so much more quiet.

Shivering, she rubs her hands together in an attempt to warm them. She'd relight the fire, but she's afraid of awakening the others. Wishing for Marvel to wake up is one thing. Cato, on the other hand, is _not_ someone she'd like to get on the wrong side of, and Clove, doubly so- that creepy smile of hers… Glimmer suppresses a shudder. Lene's okay, she supposes. At least she doesn't terrify Glimmer to the core, like the tributes from 2 this year.

The snap of a twig steals the blonde's attention. Her head whips round to face it, one hand reflexively curling round the bow, whilst the other reaches for an arrow.

A rabbit hops into the clearing, stopping just a few feet away from her. Tilting its head, it rises up on its two back legs and looks around, studying the area, searching for danger. Satisfied that all is safe, it falls back onto its front paws and scampers off, vanishing into the night.

Glimmer smiles and relaxes against the tree once again. She'd never have the chance to see something like that back home in 1. Marvel used to tease her when they were younger, telling her that there were such creatures in the forest outside the fence. She'd never believed him. Sitting in the arena, having witnessed such a phenomenon with her own eyes, she starts to wonder whether or not her childhood friend was onto something.

Her eyes settle on his sleeping form, watching the rise and fall of the sleeping bag as he breathes. It's slow, restful, and only serves to remind her how tired she is herself. Despite her best efforts, she falls asleep sitting against the tree, visions of Marvel and bunny rabbits leaping through her mind like some childish fantasy. She supposes that, in some ways, it must be.

* * *

Glimmer is awoken after what feels like mere minutes but, in reality, can't be by a sound that is truly deafening. She'd thought those Capitol crowds had been loud! Boy, had that been _nothing_ compared to this racket.

Cato's already dropped everything and started to run for the lake before she's even stood up. Looking around, she realises the loud humming is that of bees. _No_, the voice in her head corrects. _Tracker-jackers_. Grabbing her bow, she rises to her feet.

Already, the mutts are stinging her with such venom she almost wishes she had no feeling in her arms, her legs, just so that she wouldn't have to endure this… This _pain_, all this involuntary _twitching_. Being closest to the tree trunk, the tracker-jackers seem to dub her as their main threat, swarming around her like a terribly painful cloud.

She tries to run, but the twitching in her legs makes this feat almost impossible. She stands for a moment, legs quivering like twigs in a strong wind, before collapsing beneath her.

"Clove!" She screams, quickly shoving her swollen hand into her mouth to prevent the insects from flying into her throat. If _this_ is painful, _that_ would be too much to ever bear. "Cato! Marvel!"

They've left her. They've just… _Left_ her.

"Peeta! _Help_!" She shouts, biting her lip to prevent herself from crying.

They aren't coming back. Trying to save herself, she reaches out with her disfigured hand, tries to hold her twitching leg still. Yet her arms quiver themselves, and her leg seems oblivious to her touching it. And then it just crumbles into dust.

She stares at the spot where it was, aware that she can still feel it even if, absurdly, she can't see it. _Hallucinations_, she reasons with herself. _You learnt about this at the Academy. Deep breaths, Glim-glam. Deep breaths._ Breathing physically hurts, due to the stings that have penetrated her clothing.

Looking around, she catches sight of the dark-haired girl from 4. She's standing a way away, about to run but almost unsure... Is this Glimmer's chance? Her miracle rescue?

"Lene!" Glimmer forcees out. "Help… _Please_…"

Lene looks like she _might_ come back for her, she truly does. There's a determination in her eyes that comforts Glimmer, if only slightly. But then her eyes are wide, and her hair is a thousand writhing green snakes, and Lene's running away. The swarm surrounding Glimmer follow after her, leaving the beautiful girl from 1 to shake on the floor, terrified and alone, with only a few tracker-jackers left to keep her company, to ensure she doesn't, by some wonder, survive this.

Glimmer can feel stings on her face. She tries to open her mouth, but finds it won't co-operate due to the stiff blisters the size of plums littering her face around it. She can't even shout for help any more.

Defeated, she lies down on the floor, squeezing her eyes shut and hugging her bow close. It's all she has left now. There's a tickle against her wrist, and she hopes it's help. But when the stinger plunges through her flesh, she realises it can't be.

* * *

**That's the first time I've written anything centred around Glimmer. I'm hoping she's believable. *crosses fingers***


	2. Lene (girl from 4)

**Okay, this is a one-shot for the girl from 4. She doesn't feature much in the books or the film, so hopefully I've given her some depth here.**

* * *

"It's just _Cato_, Lene." The boy from 1, Marvel, teases. "He won't _eat_ you!"

She stares at the bulky boy from 2 with her wide brown eyes. He's lying on his side in his sleeping-bag, chatting with his District partner who's curled up to his left. "I beg to differ."

Marvel snorts. "He's got to wait until there are less people before he starts bumping off members of the Pack."

"What if I accidentally roll over and end up bumping into him?" Lene asks, grimacing. "That would _not_ be pretty."

The boy from 1 pats her shoulder affectionately, in a way that reminds her distinctly of the way her mother pets the family cat, Whiskers, back home. "Tell you what; you take the first watch for me!"

Satisfied that she can put off sleeping beside the scary boy from 2, Lene holds out a hand for Marvel to shake. "Deal."

Rather than take it, he balls his hand into a fist and holds it out in front of him. When he notices Lene's confused expression, he shakes his head. "Don't they have respect in District 4?"

"What?" Of course they have respect, but it has nothing to do with punching each-other. In fact, the way Lene remembers it, respect is almost the _complete_ opposite of that!

He rolls his bright eyes. "Make a fist." She balls her outstretched hand. "Yes, like that. Then we just bump fists like… _This_!" He lightly nudges her fist with his. "See?"

She nods, though she doesn't really 'see' at all. Apparently noticing this, Marvel turns to the sleeping bag nearest to him and nudges its occupant with his toe.

"Glim-glam, I _know_ you're awake."

Groaning, the blonde sits up and glares at him. "If I wasn't before, I certainly am now!"

If her grumpy act affects her District partner, he doesn't let it show. "I'm trying to teach Lene respect; they don't have it in 4!"

"No. Way." Glimmer stares at the girl from 4, blue eyes wide. "Seriously?"

She nods but, before she can get a word in, Glimmer's lifted a fist up, which Marvel bumps with his own almost immediately. "See, Lene?" He turns to face the dark-haired girl. "It's _easy_."

Holding back a yawn, Glimmer daintily raises her other hand, so that she has both fists held out in front of her. "Double respect?" She suggests.

Instructing Lene as he does so, Marvel and she both ball a fist of their own and nudge it against one of Glimmer's- Lene taking her left hand, he, her right.

"Thanks, Glim-glam." Marvel grins.

"My pleasure." She mumbles, falling back into her pillow and closing her eyes.

Still smiling ecstatically, Marvel heads over to the sleeping bag beside Cato- the one Lene had so purposely been avoiding- and clambers in.

"Night night." He mumbles sleepily. It's not long before he's snoring, signifying that he's asleep.

Almost on instinct, Lene's hands find the drawstring hanging loose at the edge of her coat and begin to fiddle with it, tying and untying knot after knot. The thought of home, of her mother with Whiskers sat purring in her lap as her father tosses his fish-scented coat down on the floor and runs a hand through his damp brown hair, keeps Lene from falling asleep. The knots keep her from falling to pieces.

* * *

After a few hours, she nudges Marvel with her foot. His hand slips under his pillow, grabbing a small penknife, as he sits up quickly, breathing ragged, eyes wide and alert as they search the darkness for an attacker.

"It's okay!" Lene whispers hastily. "I'm just waking you up so you can take your watch."

His eyes meet hers in the dimly lit night and he nods, sliding backwards, out of his sleeping bag, and getting up onto his feet. "Means you have to sleep next to Cato." That teasing tone laces his voice once again, even though he's keeping its volume at a minimum to keep from waking the others.

She rolls her eyes. "If I'm about to crash into him, _please_ wake me up."

"No promises." But he's grinning cockily, so she suspects he will anyway should he need to. Hopefully, he won't. Slipping into his sleeping bag, and trying to ignore the fact that it's still warm when really she needs it to be icy cold if she wants to relax properly, Lene closes my eyes and drifts off to sleep.

* * *

She's awoken when her nose collides with something solid as rock. Bolting upright, she turns to find Cato climbing out of his sleeping bag. There's a deafening buzz somewhere near her feet, and she looks over to see a swarm of tracker-jackers. You have to grant it to that girl from 12; she's cleverer than Lene had previously given her credit for.

Scrambling out of her own sleeping bag, Lene sprints after Cato, Marvel and Clove. She has no idea where Peeta's got to- maybe he's dashing after his girl. Lene likes to think so; he seems like a nice guy. Hold on, where's Glimmer?

"Clove!" Someone screams from behind her, their voice tinged with fear, so much fear. "Cato! _Marvel_!"

Lene keeps running. This is the Hunger Games. People die. If she wants to get home again, she can't afford to show compassion towards the girl behind her.

"Peeta!" Glimmer's voice screams out again. "_Help_!"

Lene's feet skid to a halt without her consent. Batting a wasp away from her face, and immediately regretting it when she feels the horrible pain emanating from her index finger, Lene turns around.

Glimmer is barely recognisable; she was so _beautiful_ before. But her golden hair is tangled with twigs, and her face covered in pus-filled blisters, her body bloated here and there by particularly horrid stings. Lene takes a step towards her, her heart telling her to help even as her brain screams at her to run.

The tracker-jackers swarming Glimmer notice her presence, and start to head towards her. And it's then that her brain's screaming drowns out the pleas of her sentimental heart and Lene turns to run for the lake.

Her foot catches in a tree root and she falls to the floor. Spitting leaf debris out of her mouth, she winces as sting after sting penetrates her skin.

"Mew." Whiskers rubs his tabby-coloured head against her shoulder, though she can't feel the warm fur as she usually can. "Mew." And then he hisses, collapsing to the ground in a pile of sand as golden as that of the beach outside her house.

"Whiskers?" She whispers, confused. Her hand ghosts over the surface of the pile of sand, though she can't feel the individual grains. "Whiskers?" She's still calling for her kitten seconds before her cannon fires. And, when it does, she still hasn't found him.


	3. Cord (boy from 3)

**Goodness, it's been a while! A friend of mine borrowed my copy of the book, so I didn't have it to confer with, and I sort of... Need it for this story.**

**This chapter is about the boy from District 3. Again, as with Lene, I've tried to flesh him out a little as he doesn't have much time in the book or the film.**

**Disclaimer: Along with characters, and the Hunger Games in general, there's snatches of conversation straight out of the book in this chapter. I do not own these, either.**

* * *

Cato points to the forest, at the tower of smoke rising in the distance. He doesn't question who'd be stupid enough to light so large a fire in the middle of the day, like Cord does. However, Cord always _was_ very clever; top of his class, in fact. He'd learnt early on in the Games that the Careers won't listen to him, won't acknowledge his ideas. So he stays silent.

The other three are already bustling about him, gathering their weapons. Clove, from 2, already has a knife expertly poised in each hand, and Marvel's found himself one of the three silver spears the pack has between them. Cato has the other two, one in each hand, when he realises Cord isn't moving.

"Arm yourself, then." The boy from 2 instructs flatly.

Cord goes to grab a weapon from the pile; all the time he's doing as he's told, he isn't being killed. However, an arm shoots out to block his path before he's even made it two steps.

"Someone needs to guard the supplies." Marvel tells Cato bluntly, his arm still in Cord's way.

The boy from 2 narrows his eyes at Marvel just as Cord turns round to a point he can see them both at once. In an argument between Careers, it wouldn't do to stand between them without knowing who's coming from what direction at which point.

"He's _coming_." Cato says to Marvel, in a tone somewhat louder than the boy from 1's. Cord knows they're talking about him; it's not hard for him to figure out. "We need him in the woods, and his job's done here anyway. _No-one_ can touch those supplies."

"What about Lover Boy?" Marvel retorts.

The boy from 3 fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, because then he won't be able to see them if they were to start a fight. He'd be caught in the middle, and he knows it; in his current position, directly in front of Marvel, there's no way he couldn't be.

"I keep _telling_ you," Cato hisses, "Forget about him. I know where I cut him. It's a miracle he hasn't bled to death yet. At any rate, he's in no shape to raid us."

Cato and Marvel are glaring at each-other over the top of Cord's head, both fuming. Eventually, much to the boy from 3's surprise, it's the far more formidable-looking one who turns away first.

Cato thrusts one of the spears in his hands towards Cord, who just about manages to catch it in time to avoid having it clatter to the floor. With such a mistake, there would come insults and berating, just as there always is. He's never felt more like a puppet in his life than he has these last few days.

"Come on." Cato growls out. This time, Marvel doesn't argue. He just follows him into the woods, Clove scampering up to walk by Cato's side soon after.

Cord trudges along behind them, wondering how long it will be before they kill him. As Cato said, 'his job's done here'. They don't _need_ him any longer. Maybe if he proves useful, they'll let him stick around. But really, that's just drawing out the inevitable, and Cord knows that.

"When we find her," Cato announces, "I kill her in my own way, and no-one interferes." It's obvious that he's talking about the Fire Girl from 12.

Clove nods her head in assent. "Fine by me. You're sure to draw it out, and make it _painful_." They both laugh.

Marvel, for once, remains silent as the boy from 3, which shocks the latter; cheekiness always seemed to be his forte.

But, then again, Glimmer was _his_ District partner, not Cato's. He's probably wondering why the boy from 2 should be the one to avenge her.

Cord doesn't realise he's staring, not until Marvel catches him. The boy from 3 prepares himself to be yelled at, maybe killed. It's always been a bad habit- zoning out- and, unlike tinkering, he doubts it's one that will settle well with the Careers.

However, Marvel merely smiles weakly before averting his gaze back to the floor again.

* * *

There's no-one there. When the four Careers reach the fire, there's nothing but burning wood, charred leaves, and smoke. _Lots_ of smoke.

Cord fights the urge to say 'I knew it'.

Clove groans and stabs a nearby tree trunk in her frustration, and Cato throws his spear to the ground with an almost dramatic flourish. He opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by a boom.

And it isn't the boom of a cannon. It's that of an explosion.

There's only one thing that could've caused it, Cord realises, and the same thought must occur to the other three as immediately Cato grabs his spear off the ground and they're running. Without even needing to confer, they all _know_ where they're headed: the cornucopia; just to confirm the worst.

* * *

To say Cato is angry would be an understatement; he is _livid_. Cord tries to stick with Marvel and Clove as much as possible, just to try and kid himself that he's a little bit safer.

In reality, he knows he's skating on very thin ice. It was, after all, he who rigged up the mine system. And though it was under Cato's orders, he doubts the boy from 2 is going to think about such a _minority_ in his current temper.

Whilst Cato throws his tantrum, tearing at his hair and beating at the ground, Cord locates a small rock and tosses it at the charred stack of supplies, from a distance. Gritting his teeth as the stone sails through the air, he waits for an explosion which never comes.

For a moment, he's proud of himself. If someone had actually stepped onto the mines, all the others would've also exploded, and there'd have been no way they'd have survived. But, since there was no cannon, it means no-one has died.

Still, he calls out his discovery; "They've all exploded."

Clove and Marvel immediately dash forward, scouring the site for anything remotely salvageable. They find nothing, and as Cato's rage becomes less comical and more cold, calculating, Cord finds himself growing terrified all over again.

The pride in his trap wears off. As Cato stalks towards him, fists clenched, Cord realises that if they're going to kill their puppet, their going to do it now.

Still, the boy from 3 turns and starts to run despite knowing he won't get very far. And within seconds of starting to flee, Cato's locked him in a headlock.

"You're just too damned clever, 3." He whispers harshly, in reference to the flawless mine explosion.

Cord squeezes his eyes shut. They don't open again.


	4. Marvel

**Hello, all!**

**So, this is my take on Marvel's death. It also feature Rue's, so potential tear-jerker in that respect. I actually think that this is my favourite of these so far, though I don't know if anyone will agree with me here...**

* * *

"There's no-one here!" Cato complains, kicking at the leaves that litter the forest floor.

He's right, there's nothing safe for the smouldering remains of a fire. Now that Marvel thinks about it, it's unlikely that anyone who's made it this far without dying would be stupid enough to light a fire so attention-grabbing as the one that lured the Careers here.

_In fact_, he thinks, _this is all starting to look like a trap_.

"We should head back." Cato commands, turning to set off. After a few steps, he stops and swivels on the spot in so that he faces Clove and Marvel, who still stand either side of the fire's ashes. "Marvel, wait here in case they come back. Meet us up by the Cornucopia in… About twenty minutes, maybe?"

The blond boy from District 1 nods. "Alright,"

"I'll bet it's that Girl On Fire." Clove tells him. "If it is, make sure you get her." Using one of the knives she clutches in her hand, the short girl from District 2 mimes cutting her own throat before offering me a smile that could almost be considered sweet were it placed in any other circumstance and scampers off after Cato.

_Man, that girl is creepy_, Marvel thinks to himself.

Still, she needn't worry; he intends to kill the Girl On Fire the first chance he gets. Before, what with the eleven in training that had annoyed Cato so much, he might've been willing to be slightly lenient on her- maybe he'd even let her go if he stumbled upon her, provided the other Careers weren't in tow. But she made an enemy of Marvel when she decided to drop that tracker-jacker nest on Glimmer's head. And if there's one sure-fire way of getting to Marvel, it's always been through his beautiful best friend.

Footsteps against the forest floor capture the boy's attention. Glancing around him, he struggles to catch sight of the approaching tribute, and so opts to hide in the shadows and jump out on them while they're otherwise occupied.

Taking care to tiptoe around the trap that Lene had helped them set up before the tracker-jacker incident (the twine used to make the net is a particularly biting one- Marvel remembers the deep cuts it left on her fingers well enough to feel sorry for the unsuspecting being, animal or otherwise, who stumbles upon it), he hides behind a particularly thick tree trunk and listens intently.

The footsteps stop at a distance that sounds like it's quite nearby, just for a moment, before continuing up again. They don't get very far, though, before the owner of the footsteps lets out a high-pitched scream; a little girl's scream.

_The girl from 11, _Marvel thinks solemnly, afraid to peer round the tree trunk and check in case his suspicions are proved correct.

He remembers the horrible twine that the net was knotted out of, how he was afraid to even _touch_ the material with its sharp edges that seemed to glint in the sunlight.

"This stuff is _nasty_." Lene had commented, pausing in her work to inspect the deep gashes in her fingertips. "I pity the poor fool who ends up with _these_ anywhere other than their hands."

They'd had to rely on sponsors to send her a special ointment which helped heal the cuts up faster; the worst of them went right through to the bone. And whilst a person can make do without a few fingers if the worst comes to the worst, the same kind of gashes in the right place… Marvel involuntarily shudders.

"Katniss!" The panicked cry comes from the opposite side of the tree trunk to Marvel, seeming to remove whatever small traces of doubt remained lodged in his brain; that's the little girl from 11, he's sure of it. "Katniss!"

"Rue!" Comes the reply, frantic as its owner's footsteps hurry to the scene Marvel still can't bring himself to look at. "Rue, I'm coming!"

The boy from 1 squeezes his eyes shut, barely for a moment, but it seems enough to give him an insight into what's about to happen if he doesn't intervene.

The Girl On Fire- Katniss, was it? – will arrive at the scene. She'll fall to her knees on the ground beside the trap her little friend (Rue, right?) is caught in and attempt to free her. However, it's designed in such a way that she won't be able to do so without a very strong blade, the likes of which are all in the possession of Clove as far as Marvel is aware. Therefore, all that the girl from 12 will succeed in doing is tearing her hands apart, and all the while her tiny friend will be trapped and slowly bleeding to death, caught in a net that was made to be inescapable.

If the roles were reversed, and Katniss was the one trapped in the net whilst Rue watched, perhaps he would've just left it. Perhaps he would've headed back to the Cornucopia there and then, informed the other two remaining Careers that whoever lit the fire wasn't coming back.

But it's Rue caught in the net, slowly bleeding, and Marvel has two little sisters of his own back home. He tries to picture fourteen year old Topaz in a similar situation, though it's difficult considering how well she's currently doing in the training academy. Leave it a few years, and he suspects she'll be coming home a Victor. However, eleven year old Beauty isn't much of a fighter, especially not in comparison to her sister. In less than a year, she'll be twelve- same as Rue. In less than a year, that could be her…

It takes him only a brief moment to decide that, were he sitting at home watching his sister in Rue's place, he'd rather someone killed her. He'd rather they did it quickly, painlessly, instead of just leaving her to bleed to death.

The Girl On Fire will likely attack him, but he doesn't care. He'll try to give her and good as he gets. Wiping the palm of his hands on his tunic (they're awfully sweaty all of a sudden), he shifts his grip on the shaft of his spear and steps out from behind the tree.

It's like watching his prediction play out; Katniss hurtles out from the cover of the trees and falls down to her knees beside the net-encompassed little girl.

The girl from 11 tries to reach a hand through the mesh of the net, but her tiny form is already covered in those deep gashes and Marvel realises he'll have to act now if he wants her to go quickly, painlessly...

So he takes a few steps forward and stabs at her.

But he's shaking, so his aim is a little off, and he has every intention of pulling it out and hastily jabbing it somewhere it'll take care of her swiftly, carry her away from the terrible pain she must be so bravely enduring, but he never has chance to.


End file.
